


Distance

by FrostEgg



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: DFAB reader, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Other, Phone Sex, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 18:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10724403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostEgg/pseuds/FrostEgg
Summary: Murdoc was away on tour, and you were incredibly frustrated.





	Distance

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place around phase two, which means smart phones aren't a thing yet, and you've gotta get that dirty talk in over flip phones. Tragic, I know.

A tortured sigh escaped your stubborn body as you slammed your laptop shut. This wasn't working anymore. Nothing was working. Every passing day that Murdoc was out shaping the musical landscape without you only made it worse, only made you more desperate. The effect was only increased by the knowledge that, if he were there, he would have loved it. Just seeing you like this, in his bed half naked and trying hopelessly to get off without him, would have guaranteed his assistance in solving the problem. His signature merciless teasing was just a bonus. You reached for you cell phone and flipped it open, searching your contact list for “The Best Fuck of My Life,” a name that Murdoc had assigned himself when putting his number into your phone, and that you still found too amusing to change. 

Next time there was a tour, you were going with them. It didn't matter how desperate it made you seem or how insufferable Murdoc was going to be about it, because you were about to do something just as equally weak willed anyway. Moreso, even. You'd never hear the end of this. He might even mention it in an interview to further boost his ego. But, if you played it right, you might just be able to swing it. Already heating up with anticipation, you dialed his number and waited. 

"Hello, Murdoc Niccals: king of bass speaking, you lucky dog,” came his answer, fuzzy and crackling over the phone. At least he seemed to be in a good mood. (Half the time he answered with a surly "What.") Just the sound of his voice, and the stupid arrogant way he'd answered the phone sent a jolt of arousal down your spine. In the back of your mind, you resolved that you needed to call him more often, every day, maybe. 

"Murdoc," you said, letting the words drip like sugar from your mouth; trying to communicate your intentions in just the two syllables of his name. "Where are you?" You heard a voice in the background, too deep to make out. 

"Uhhh, hey, love," Murdoc said. Despite the wealth of phone sex experience you were absolutely certain he possessed, he didn't pick up on your fairly obvious intentions. The poor man didn’t notice your affected breathing, or the way you had crooned his name, and he even seemed vaguely confused. "I'm about half out the door, actually. Did you need something?" 

In your mounting frustration, you decided to kick it up a notch, and gave him a small half moan, carried out on your labored breathing. If you had to resort to theatrics to get his attention, you would. The situation was just that dire. "You're at your hotel? Good,” You said, voice adopting a pleading cadence, “I do need something, and you're the only one who can give it to me." That should do it, you thought. The idea that he was the only thing good enough for you was one of his favorites. A playful exploitation of his possessive nature. 

"Oh," he growled into the receiver. A good growl, you liked that sound. "I get it." When his voice got dark like that, conjuring images in your head of actual honest to god demons in hell, you were beyond help. Someday, he’d figure out how much you loved his low rasping moans, and you didn't know whether to dread or crave the things he'd do with that knowledge. You heard him shout to somebody in the distance. "Oi! Something's come up! You lot have got to handle your sorry selves without me." You heard what sounded like the high pitched voice of 2D in response, but couldn't make out what he was saying. 

"Tough luck, brain-ache," Murdoc snapped. Despite the fact that he seemed to be holding the phone as far away from his face as possible, you could still hear everything. "this is important. More important than anything you've ever done in your life." You heard a door slam. "Sorry about that, darling," he drawled into the receiver, "just had to get rid of some rabble." 

Important… You grinned at that. "I wouldn't call your bandmates rabble, Murdoc..." 

"Compared to you, sweetheart, everyone is. But tell me, where are you this time of night?" It was immensely pleasing how quickly you had hooked him. Murdoc was sex-driven, sure, but usually his band came first. You allowed yourself to bask in the complement for a moment. He must have been missing you, too.

"I'm in your bed," you answered, omitting that you'd taken the opportunity to change the sheets. "But it's not as nice without you." 

"You've been waiting so long, haven't you?" He said, as if it had truly slipped his mind how long he’d been away, and he hadn't been thinking about it just as often as you had. "I should've thought about that. You've gone from the best sex of your life to nothing at all. Must be a shock to the system." He laughed, mind already working on a remedy for this terrible oversight. 

Feeding his ego, just this once, couldn't hurt. "Mhmm," came your reply. A moan through bitten lips. You shifted in the bed just enough for the noise of your body sliding against his silk sheets to be audible over phone speakers. “I don't know what to do with myself without you…”

To your immense satisfaction, it worked like a charm. You heard another low growl. "When I get home, this is what I'll do. Listen closely, because I’m not in the mood to repeat myself,” he said, finally deciding he’d had enough and was ready to take control of the situation.

You whimpered, and he chuckled. You heard the hiss of his zipper over the line. 

"I'll get you all alone as soon as possible,” he started. “Fuck subtlety. I couldn't care less who knows what we're about to do. I'd strip you down in public if you weren't so uptight about it."

"You're famous..." you groaned, "somebody'd take pictures." In fact, some already had. Nothing untoward, but with Murdoc’s insistence on constantly touching you, It'd be impossible to keep your relationship under wraps. But getting caught on your knees in a public bathroom was different. 

"Exactly! I've got a reputation to uphold. Superstar Murdoc Niccals, bassist of the international musical sensation Gorillaz, caught finger banging his lovely companion in an airport shuttle," he laughed. "That's a headline alright. I'd cut it out and have it framed. But you'd go batshit, so I'll have to wait till we get home. Or try, at least. You know how I get. Won't be able to keep my hands to meself." 

"I'll sit in the back. You'll drive," you retorted between shallow breaths, "the only person in groping range will be 2D." 

"You're such a tease," he snarled. "As soon as we get home I'm going to pick you up and carry you to my bed, lock the door, and ruin you." The r in ruin was rolled and elongated, and you could imagine his tongue working behind those pointy teeth. "I'll start with your neck. I'll pin you down. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You won't be able to do anything but gasp when I bite down, or moan. A little whimpering helpless moan for me. Oh, that'd be something, alright," he paused for a moment. "Sorry... I, I got carried away there. I'm just a tad bit distracted." You heard that gravely laughter again, and your hips bucked upwards. But he never gave you a spare moment when you needed one, "I'll work my tongue deep down into your mouth. And in the meantime, I'll be working my fingers into you too, hmmm? But you’ll hardly need it" 

"Yeah?" You pleaded. 

"You'll be soaking wet,” he said bluntly, before his voice turned sweet and sly, “just like you are right now. You're already touching yourself aren't you? Can't help it?" 

"So... so are you," you said. Some part of you was still hopelessly wishing to retain your integrity. But even then, you knew it wouldn't be long until that part gave up too. He was right. When it came to these things he was always right. 

"At least I can still talk," said Murdoc. 

"You're always talking..." 

“Don’t push it," he said, voice stern. But that stalled him for a moment. You heard him panting, and hoped to god you could get him to put on more of a show. "If you're lucky," he said in an attempt to regain his composure, "I might even go down on you. But you'll have to be on your best behavior. Otherwise you won't get to feel that tongue you like so much, or the kisses I'll leave trailing all the way from your neck. I know how much you love that sappy shit. Regardless, you'll end up on top. You're so hungry for a good shagging you'll try and take over. You'll shake with the effort, all this wanting pent up inside of you, and I'll just watch your lovely flushed body bouncing on my cock like an overly enthusiastic stripper giving the first dance of the night." Even over the phone, it still felt like Murdoc was speaking directly against the side of your face. Holding you by the chin and pulling you closer in the darkness of his bedroom. Making sure you every ounce of your attention was on him, always.

To his delight, your concentration never faltered. "Murdoc... keep going," your voice sounded weak and desperate even to your own ears, and Murdoc had to bite back an appreciative moan. 

He cleared his throat. "You're just about finished aren't you? Already? And all it took was my voice?" They weren't real questions. He had no need for an answer. He was right, and he knew it. "Such a needy little thing. What would you do without me? But let's keep going, hmm?" 

Your gasping moaning breaths only barely hid the wet noises of your own devoted self-pleasure. "Please,” you begged, once again giving him exactly what he wanted. 

He obliged, and his voice washed over you again. "Once you've come like that, and you will, I'll flip you over and slam you proper. Real hard. I'll have you come that way too. Over and over and over again. I'll have my tongue down your throat, and you'll have to scratch me up good and nice to even get me to back off and let you breathe. By this point," he paused and you heard the rumbling moan and wanton slapping of flesh against flesh, and the image in your mind caused you to arch your back and press heavy into your own hand. Murdoc soon caught his breath, "you'll be moaning so loudly there won't be a single bloody person in Essex who doesn't know exactly the kind of sweet, sticky, heavy fucking we're doing. Everybody for miles will know you're mine. Even the big man downstairs'll be impressed. And don't you dare think it'll be stopping anytime soon after," he paused to pant heavily, and suppress a low grunt of his own pleasure. "I'm going to keep on making love to you until neither of us can even move anymore." He was speaking through clenched teeth. 

You let out a desperate moan, and in response, heard another loud throaty one on the line. A moan you'd been waiting far too long to hear. The breathless sounds of Murdoc's own rough climax brought you to the teetering edge, and you could see his wicked grin behind your closed eyes. "Mur... Murdoc, Murdoc please... I'm, I'm about to..." you gasped, unable to truly articulate. 

He was still panting, and his voice was low and rumbling and perfect, "Go on then, love,” he crooned, “I'm waiting. Come. Do it for me. Show me how much you've missed me. Prove it.”

At his command, you did. All the frustration of your time alone switching over and crashing back down on you to the sound of Murdoc Niccals' sweet foggy voice coaxing you on. You couldn't care less the weakness you'd exposed. Anything was worth this. You had needed him so badly, and even from such a long way away he was still able to perform flawlessly. As you came, you moaned his name, and repeated it over and over until the feeling subsided, until it was almost a whisper on your lips. 

For a moment, you both just listened to each other's labored breathing over the phone. It was Murdoc who broke the silence. "That get the job done for you?" He asked. 

You broke into a fit of laughter. On the line you could hear Murdoc wasn't able to suppress it either. Something about the distance had reduced you to a couple of horny lovebird teenagers. 

"'Make love', huh? That's new." You said, still giggling. 

"Good touch, that. thought you'd like it." 

"I did." 

After another extended period of silence, Murdoc coughed awkwardly. "You've made me late to a party, you have." 

"Don't go," you suggested. Blunt and obvious. You wanted to stay here and listen to him breathe until the end of time. "Stay here and talk to me.”

He considered it for a second, and sighed. "Alright fine, I can stay for a while, but I've got to get going eventually. Can't spend me whole tour pillow talking can I?”

 

His muffled raspy snoring met you when you awoke the next morning.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Call Me, Call Me, Anytime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16083479) by [jinglebellbard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinglebellbard/pseuds/jinglebellbard)




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